CRUEL COLOURS

MUSIC - THE HABANERA FROM 'CARMEN'AN UNTIDY BEDSITTING ROOM. A LARGE DOUBLE BED, A TABLE, A HARD CHAIR AND A BEDSIDE TABLE. SOMEONE IS LYING IN THE BED, HEAD COMPLETELY COVERED, NOT DISCERNABLE AMONGST THE RUMPLED BEDCLOTHES. AN OUTER DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES AND A YOUNG WOMAN (JEAN) ENTERS CARRYING A SHOPPING BAG AND TALKING TO HERSELF. JEAN: Number eights stupid, not sixes stupid.

Thick bitch, thick as a brick. (RHYTHMICALLY REMOVING ITEMS OF SHOPPING (FOOD) FROM THE BAG) How - can - you - be - so......(REMOVES PAPER BAG) Ah!

(PEEPING IN BAG) Lovely! (TAKING OUT BRIGHTLY COLOURED BALLS OF WOOL) My beauties......arn't you georgeous. (HUGS THEM TO HER) Mmm. (LAYING THEM OUT ON THE TABLE AND READING THE LABELS)

Sea jade, clear crimson, ripe, corn yellow. Dark blue, (THROWS ON FLOOR) pale petunia, mellow mustard, baby pink,(HESITATES AND HOLDS WOOL UP TO FACE FOR A SECOND BEFORE STROKING IT AND PLACING IT DOWN) baby pink, misty violet. (PAUSE) And then what? (TAKES KNITTING NEEDLES OUT OF BAG) Bloody sixes! (SHOUTS IN RHYTHMN, DRUMMING NEEDLES ON TABLE) Eights - you - stu - pid - cow - Can't - you - do - any - thing....(FIGURE ON BED MOVES, JEAN LOOKS ROUND) ....any - thing? (JEAN NOTICES STRANGE CLOTHES ON CHAIR, PICKS JACKET UP AND HOLDS IT AGAINST HERSELF, PUZZLED) Can't - you - do.....

FIGURE ON BED (SANDRA) GROANS JEAN: Aaah! FIGURE MOVES JEAN: Aaah! Aaah! FIGURE UNCOVERS HEAD JEAN: What do you want? SANDRA: Uh? Oh (STRETCHES) What a dream....(YAWNS AGAIN) Wonderful! JEAN: Get out! SANDRA: Wonderful, wonderful dream. JEAN: Get out of my bed! SANDRA TURNS AND BURROWS BACK INTO THE BEDCLOTHES

JEAN: Oh god....look...this must be....you must have got the wrong flat?

SANDRA: (HALF RISING) Must I? JEAN: This is my flat. SANDRA: Is it? JEAN: You've made a mistake. SANDRA: No. JEAN: (SHOUTS) Yes! SANDRA: Oh my head, my head! JEAN: I'm calling the police. SANDRA: (GETTING UP RAPIDLY AND BURPING)

Up....oh....up....think I'm going to be sick. JEAN: Don't you, don't you dare! SANDRA: Can't help it - wine and whisky - always bad news....oh my god! JEAN: Stop it! Get up! Get out of my bed! SANDRA: Up.

JEAN GRABS SHOPPING BAG AND HOLDS IT OUT FOR SANDRA. JEAN: Here, in here. SANDRA: (LEANING OVER BAG) Ah....oh....oh.... (BURPS) no..it's OK.

I'll be alright. (GRINS AT JEAN) In a minute, I'll be alright.

JEAN PUTS DOWN BAG AND WALKS ROUND THE BED LOOKING AT SANDRA WHO IS MAKING HERSELF COMFORTABLE AGAIN. JEAN: I think I'm going to scream. SANDRA: Oh god, don't do that. JEAN: For help, someone will come and.... SANDRA: Please - don't - scream....Jean. JEAN: Did you say Jean? NO REPLY

JEAN: Do you know me? NO REPLY JEAN: Do....\ SANDRA: Yes. (PAUSE) Of course, why else? JEAN: (SCREAMS) Why else? SANDRA: Please - Jean - don't shout like.... JEAN: (HISSING) Who are you? SANDRA: You haven't got an asprin have you? JEAN: I've never seen you before. SANDRA: Or a paracetemol maybe? JEAN: Have I seen you before? SANDRA: Oh yes. JEAN: When? SANDRA: I suppose it was a long time ago - Nurofen? JEAN: No! SANDRA: There's absolutely no need to shout. Really Jean.... I can see why Simon.... JEAN: Simon! That's it, I'm..\ SANDRA: What? JEAN: Calling the police. SANDRA: So you've already said, but you'll look rather foolish dear, won't you.....when

the police come and discover we're such old friends.... old school friends. JEAN: School? SANDRA: Don't you remember your old school friend? JEAN: Alice? No - stupid. Is it? ....Just a minute - that nose. SANDRA: Nose!

JEAN: It's coming. SANDRA: Oh good. JEAN: The hair's a different colour, but that nose.... SANDRA: What's the matter with....? JEAN: Sandra! Of course, Sandra. SANDRA: So? Pleased to see me now? (PAUSE) We were such good friends. (PAUSE)

Well I thought so anyway.

JEAN: (HISSING) Sandra, it is ten o'clock on a Saturday morning. SANDRA: (HISSING BACK) I do know that dear, and I was trying to sleep. JEAN: But why here? Why in my bed? SANDRA: Really Jean, I would have thought it was obvious....I've missed you. JEAN: Don't be ridiculous. SANDRA: Now you've hurt me Jean - deeply. JEAN: And what about Simon? SANDRA: Deeply. JEAN: You mentioned Simon. SANDRA: Did I? JEAN: You know you did. SANDRA: Those are beautiful colours aren't they. JEAN: Simon? SANDRA: What are you knitting? JEAN: You know him? SANDRA: Tell me about it. JEAN: Me and Simon? SANDRA: No, your knitting. Tell me about it, I'm fascinated. Remember when they

tried to teach us to knit at school? And god! I can still remember those

needlework classes can't you? I don't think I ever got past tacking. I admire creative people so, I want to know their secret....yours......and Simon's.

JEAN: How do you know Simon? SANDRA: Oh.... I just met him.... sometime ago now. Tell me, can you do fairisle?

I just love fairisle sweaters. JEAN: Did he send you? SANDRA: Nooo.....but he made me curious, you know me. JEAN: No, no I don't. (PAUSE) Where did you meet? SANDRA: Simon? I just bumped into him. JEAN: Where? SANDRA: In the street. JEAN: Which street? SANDRA: Was it the High Street? Somewhere in town. I really can't remember.

JEAN: Try. SANDRA: My head. JEAN: Try. SANDRA: (CLOSING EYES) Perhaps if I had a little rest it might come back to me.

JEAN: Alright. (SANDRA LIES BACK IN THE BED) No, no you must get up. SANDRA: Make up your mind darling. JEAN: I've got some knitting to do. SANDRA: Ah. JEAN: And I like to lie on the bed. SANDRA: To knit? JEAN: Yes. SANDRA: I see....well there's plenty of room, I'll just budge over. Here look, you get

on here. I'll shut my eyes and see if I can remember, while you have a little knit.

JEAN: I can't. SANDRA: Of course you can sweetie. (CLOSING EYES) Look, I'm almost asleep already,

I won't disturb you at all and when I wake up we can have another little chat.

JEAN GETS SOME KNITTING AND SITS ON THE BED. SANDRA: (EYES CLOSED) How long have you been 'involved' with Simon? JEAN: Since art college. SANDRA: That long! (GASPS AND BREATHES WITH DIFFICULTY) JEAN: We met in our last year. SANDRA: I see. (LONG PAUSE, BREATHING AS NORMAL AGAIN) I was always cleverer

than you at school, you were only good at art. JEAN: I know. SANDRA: We used to call you Jean, Jean, the string bean. JEAN: I know. SANDRA: You see, you do remember what friends we were. JEAN: I remember you teasing me. SANDRA: It was affectionate. JEAN: It hurt. SANDRA: You were so serious - you still are. JEAN: I had fun, in my own way. SANDRA: And do you still....? Have fun? With Simon? JEAN: (PUTTING KNITTING DOWN) Sometimes... We used to.... SANDRA: But not so much now? JEAN: Sometimes. SANDRA: When you make love? JEAN HUGS HER KNEES AND ROCKS GENTLY. SANDRA WATCHES JEAN CLOSELY AND THEN RELUCTANTLY SITS UP AND PUTS HER ARMS AROUND HER. SANDRA HAS ONLY A BRASSIERE ON. JEAN IS SHOCKED, SANDRA NOTICES.

SANDRA: It was so hot in here - stuffy. Aren't you hot? JEAN: No. SANDRA: You're sweating. JEAN: A little. SANDRA: Take this off. JEAN: I'm OK. SANDRA: You'll feel cooler, more relaxed. SANDRA STARTS TO REMOVE JEAN'S CARDIGAN. JEAN: Oh.... SANDRA: Here, like this. SANDRA REMOVES JEAN'S CARDIGAN REVEALING A WHITE UNDERSKIRT. SANDRA THROWS THE COVERS OVER THEM BOTH AND PUTS HER ARM AROUND JEAN WHO IS SHIVERING. SANDRA: There, that's better. (STROKING JEAN'S ARM) Mm, what lovely skin you

have. I can see what Si.... JEAN: What Simon? SANDRA: Much softer than my old elephant hide. SANDRA SNIFFS JEAN JEAN: What are you doing? SANDRA: Smelling you... mm....ah.... I bet Simon smells good. JEAN: I....I don’t think I’ve noticed. SANDRA: Good gracious - first principles sweetie. Number one: never knit them

anything. And number two: make sure you like their sweat. (SNIFFS JEAN AGAIN) I like yours. Smell me, see if you like mine.

JEAN SNIFFS SANDRA'S ARM. SANDRA: No here. (PULLS JEAN'S HEAD ONTO HER CHEST) That's the best place. You

collect a little pocket of sweat there, a little cup of nectar for your lover. Go on, lick it. See what it tastes like.

AN OUTER DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES. ENTER SIMON CARRYING A LARGE PACKAGE IN FRONT OF HIS FACE.

SIMON: You left the front door open again Jeanie, anyone could.... SANDRA: (RESTRAINING JEAN FROM LIFTING HER HEAD) Hello Simon! SIMON: Oh shit! SANDRA GRINS AT SIMON OVER JEAN'S HEAD. JEAN: (FREEING HER HEAD AND STARING WILDLY AT SIMON) Ah...(PAUSE)

Simon...(PAUSE) You know Sandra. SIMON: Yes. (PAUSE) Yes we have met. SANDRA SNORTS. JEAN SCRAMBLES TO PUT ON HER CARDIGAN. SANDRA: Well now, isn't this nice. JEAN: We were just... SIMON: What? LONG PAUSE SANDRA: I think I'd better be going. SIMON: Yes. SANDRA: Let Jean get on with her......knitting. JEAN: Yes....thanks. SANDRA THROWS THE BEDCLOTHES BACK TO REVEAL SKIMPY BRIEFS. JEAN: Sandra! SANDRA: (GETTING UP) Something wrong darling? JEAN: Here. (HANDS HER THE BEDCOVER) SANDRA: Oh, I don't think I need that...do I Simon? After all, we're all old friends

aren't we? Jean and I were getting on so well before you came Simon. JEAN: We went to the same school. SANDRA: (PUTTING HER ARM AROUND JEAN) Shared a bed in the dorm. JEAN: I didn't board, I was a day girl....remember?

SANDRA: I could have sworn....oh well, mmm....ooh, getting chilly, better get my clothes on. (GETS OFF THE BED) You two carry on, don't mind me.

SANDRA DRESSES IN A DELIBERATELY PROVOCATIVE MANNER. JEAN GETS UP AND TRIES INEFFECTUALLY TO ENGAGE SIMON IN CONVERSATION. JEAN: You've brought me a present? SANDRA: A present! - aren't you a lucky girl! SIMON: Just something to show you. JEAN: Can I see? SIMON: Later. SANDRA: Come on Simon, let's see it. SIMON: Not now. SANDRA: Meanie. SIMON: In minute, when....have a look in a minute. SANDRA: Now! JEAN: No! (TAKES PARCEL FROM SIMON AND PLACES IT ON THE TABLE) No. It's

very kind of you. SIMON: Not really, I just thought you might find it... well we'll have look.... later....I

can't.... JEAN: (WATCHING SANDRA) Nor can I. (PAUSE) I wasn't expecting.... SIMON: A present. JEAN: No, you, I thought you were.... SIMON: No...no, not at the moment. JEAN: Have you....? SIMON: I'll explain later... can't.... SANDRA LAUGHS QUIETLY TO HERSELF SIMON: I'll explain later. JEAN GIVES UP, STRAIGHTENS THE BED, SITS ON IT AND RESUMES KNITTING, ALL THE TIME WATCHING SIMON WATCHING SANDRA.

SANDRA: There, oh goodness, Jean's started already. No need to hint darling, I'm just

going. It's been lovely to see you ....both. Thanks for the chat Jean - mm, very interesting chat. Bye then, bye Simon.

SANDRA EXITS BLOWING KISSES. SIMON KISSES JEAN AND LIES DOWN ON THE BED BESIDE HER STARING AT THE CEILING, HANDS UNDER HIS HEAD. JEAN: I wasn't expecting you. SIMON: I gathered that.

JEAN: I was expecting you on Monday... and last night. Yes, I was expectingyou last night but...

SIMON: Not this morning. JEAN: No. SIMON: OK, that's fine, you weren't expecting me. JEAN: It's not fine. SIMON: Not fine. Why? I didn't mind her... that.. JEAN: That! SIMON: You know. JEAN: No! SIMON: Is this really necessary? JEAN: I think so. Oh Simon.....it's just.... I never know. I sit here and wait.

I seem to spend my whole life waiting. SIMON: What for? JEAN: You...if I knew, I could get on, do things in between times. SIMON: What things? JEAN: My things. SIMON: So what's stopping you? JEAN: Not knowing, I don't know when you're coming.

SIMON: Why should that stop you? I thought we agreed, we lead our own lives and come together as independent, self-sufficient people.

JEAN: But I might not be here when you come. SIMON: That's alright. JEAN: I don't want to miss you. SIMON: It doesn't matter, I can call again. JEAN: I look forward to seeing you. SIMON: And I look forward to seeing you - so what's the problem? JEAN: Perhaps if we could text? SIMON: Yeah, why not?

JEAN: Or if I could come over to your place sometimes. SIMON: We've discussed this. You know how it is. With Pete there, I just feel... JEAN: There's your room? SIMON: Not the same though is it? Much nicer here. We did agree. JEAN: I know but... SIMON: OK then, no problem eh? JEAN: I suppose not, if you could just let me know. SIMON: I'll try, not always possible, but I'll try. Text. OK? JEAN: OK. SIMON: That's it then. Good stick. LONG PAUSE. JEAN GETS UP. SITS SIMON DOWN ON A CHAIR ARRANGES HIS HANDS, HANGS A SKEIN OF WOOL OVER THEM AND BEGINS TO WIND. JEAN: Aren't you curious? SIMON: Sorry? JEAN: Sandra. SIMON: Oh yes, Sandra - bit of a surprise, I must admit.

JEAN: But you've seen her recently.

SIMON: Have I? JEAN: She said. SIMON: Did?... Oh yes...well yes, I just... JEAN: Bumped into her? SIMON: That's right. JEAN: In the High Street. SIMON: Was it? Oh yes. JEAN: The High Street? SIMON: Yes. PAUSE JEAN: Don't you want to know? SIMON: Uh? JEAN: Why she was here. SIMON: Er...yes...why was she? JEAN: I don't know. SIMON: Ah. JEAN: Did you think....? SIMON: Eh? JEAN: Sandra and I? SIMON: She was still a bit drunk I expect - Marsha's party. JEAN: Was she there? Did you go? (PAUSE) Without me? SIMON: No, no. JEAN: But...? SIMON: Sandra said. JEAN: Did she?

SIMON: She must have. JEAN: I don't think so. SIMON: Must have. LONG PAUSE JEAN: Did you think we were....? SIMON: Look Jean, we agreed - our own lives. JEAN: But if we had been....? SIMON: Up to you. JEAN: Don't you care? Wouldn't you mind? SIMON: Not my place. JEAN: Isn't it? SIMON: We agreed. JEAN: I could be a lesbian and you couldn't care less? SIMON: Are you? JEAN: No. SIMON: Thought not. LONG PAUSE. JEAN PUTS DOWN BALL OF WOOL. SIMON STILL HOLDS OUT SKEIN. JEAN: I'm going to take my clothes off. SIMON: Fair enough.

JEAN: Did you hear what I said? SIMON: Go on take your clothes off. JEAN: Why shouldn't I? SIMON: No reason. JEAN: You seemed to enjoy Sandra's performance. SIMON: Not 'enjoy' exactly.

JEAN: What then? SIMON: (DROPPING SKEIN AND STANDING UP) Jesus Jean. Do you wonder why I

don't come! PAUSE JEAN: Why? SIMON: Why what? JEAN: Don't you come?

SIMON: I have come, I'm here aren't I? JEAN: It's been ages. SIMON: A couple of days. JEAN: A week. SIMON: Alright a week! JEAN: Why don't you come? SIMON: Shit! JEAN: Why? SIMON: For god's sake! JEAN: Tell me. SIMON: Listen to you. That's it - that's why. On and on. JEAN: I don't understand. SIMON: Nagging. JEAN: No! SIMON: On and on. JEAN: Oh don't - oh god, how awful! I'm sorry Simon - really - I didn't realise.

Oh, I can't bear it! How awful! Nagging, that's terrible! SIMON: No, no. (PAUSE) It's just - well, I think we should be making the most of our time together.

JEAN: I know, I know, I must stop....I don't know why. I know I'm spoiling....oh, oh...we used to have such fun.

SIMON: We still can. JEAN: Can we? (TRIES TO EMBRACE SIMON) SIMON: Course we can. (PUTTING JEAN AWAY FROM HIM)

But we must give each other space. JEAN: I don't know. SIMON: This is the twentyfirst century. Relationships are different now.

JEAN: Are they?

SIMON: Marriage is dead.

JEAN: We're not married.

SIMON: That pressure to comply. JEAN: Awful.

SIMON: Awful. (CHEERFUL) So that's settled then. (PAUSE) Do you still want to take your clothes off?

JEAN: No not just now. SIMON: Here then, open this.(HANDS JEAN PARCEL) JEAN: What is it? SIMON: Open it. JEAN OPENS THE PARCEL TO REVEAL A LARGE KNITTED PENIS AND BALLS (TWO FOOT HIGH APPROX) SHE PLACES IT ON THE TABLE, STANDS BACK AND LOOKS AT IT FOR SOME TIME. SIMON: It's knitted. JEAN: Mm...what er? SIMON: A student made it, at the art school - a woman. I thought you'd be

interested. JEAN: Oh yes! It's very interesting..... SIMON: You don't have to.... JEAN: No, no. I was just wondering....

SIMON: Male subject matter. JEAN: Yes, yes, I can see..... SIMON: But female material. JEAN PUTS HER HAND OUT TO FEEL THE 'SCULPTURE'. SHE STROKES IT GENTLY AND THEN SNATCHES HER HAND AWAY. JEAN: Wool. SIMON: Yes...hard male form juxtaposed with female softness. JEAN: Ah. SIMON: It's post modern irony. JEAN: Is it?

SIMON: It's gender fuck.

JEAN: (ALARMED) Really?

SIMON: A transgressive act.

JEAN: I see.

SIMON: Do you?

JEAN: I think so...I... SIMON SIGHS, JEAN LOOKS WORRIED. JEAN: It's very.... SIMON: What? JEAN: Um....upright. SIMON: You mean erect. JEAN: Yes. SIMON: Well that's part of the.... JEAN: Irony? SIMON: Right.

JEAN: Perhaps if... JEAN ISOLATES AND PULLS GENTLY AT A THREAD RIGHT AT THE TIP OF THE 'SCULPTURE' MAKING IT WOBBLE VIOLENTLY. SIMON: Don't do that. What are you doing? JEAN: She hasn't cast it off properly, she's left this bit loose. JEAN TUGS AND THE 'SCUPTURE' STARTS TO UNRAVEL AT THE TOP AND FLOPS OVER. SIMON: Stop it! Look what you've done! JEAN: Don't worry, I can knit it up. SIMON: No! No! JEAN: You can't just leave threads hanging out like that. SIMON: But that's just the point. Nothing is fixed any more, nothing is certain. You

can't tie up those ends, just like you can't tie up people...

JEAN: Just a minute, just a minute, I think I've got it.

SIMON: You're not meant to get it.

JEAN: But I have - the thread is the semen. When I pulled it the semen came out and the whole thing....the whole thing.....

SIMON: Detumesced is the word you want I think. JEAN: Mmm, yes - yes I understand now.

SIMON: But you're not meant to understand.

JEAN: (GIGGLES) It's great. SIMON: (HEAVY IRONY) Oh good. I'm so glad you like it. Pity you had to destroy the

whole thing first. JEAN: Oh, I'm sorry Si. I'll mend it, I promise. Look - look, I've got a present

for you too. Here. (HANDS HIM A PARCEL) SIMON: Thanks Jean, that's very....(OPENS PARCEL TO REVEAL A RATHER GAUDY

HANDKNITTED PURPLE JUMPER) Great...great. JEAN: (HOLDING IT UP AGAINST HIM) Do you like the colour? SIMON: Mm....very unusual.

JEAN: Not too bright? SIMON: No, no. (TRIES TO PUT THE JUMPER DOWN, BUT JEAN HOLDS IT UP AGAINST

HIM AGAIN) JEAN: It's the same size as the other one. SIMON: Oh good. JEAN: So it should fit alright. SIMON: Triffic. JEAN: Put it on. SIMON: Later. JEAN: No, come on. (STARTS PULLING AT HIS JACKET) SIMON: I'll try it later. JEAN PULLS HIS JACKET OFF AND STARTS TO TRY AND GET THE JUMPER OVER HIS HEAD. THEY STRUGGLE. SIMON: Jean! JEAN: I want to see you in it. SIMON: No, don't. (PUSHES HER AWAY) No. JEAN: Let me. SIMON: Jean!...stop it...stop it. JEAN: Come on. SIMON: No! No. Get off me. Stop it you stupid bloody....just - get - off - me!

(PUSHES JEAN VIOLENTLY TO THE FLOOR)I'll try it on later - alright - Jesus!

SIMON PICKS UP HIS COAT. JEAN: Don't go. SIMON: I'll see you. JEAN: When? SIMON WALKS TO THE DOOR, TURNS AND LOOKS AT JEAN ON THE FLOOR THEN EXITS.

JEAN: (HOLDING OUT JUMPER) Don't forget your... (CLUTCHES IT TO HER IN EXTREME DISTRESS)

LIGHTS DOWN, MUSIC THE HABENERA. END SCENE ONE.

S C E N E T W O SIMON IS LYING ON JEAN'S BED. THE 'SCULPTURE' IS ERECT AGAIN AND SOMEWHAT RESTORED. SANDRA ENTERS SILENTLY AND STANDS BEHIND THE BED. SIMON: (SITTING UP SUDDENLY) Jean?....is that you Jeanie? SANDRA: Sorry to disappoint you. SIMON: For Christ's sake Sandra! SANDRA: Yes? SIMON: What is all this? SANDRA: That's what I'm trying to find out. SIMON: You shouldn't be here. SANDRA: And you should I suppose. SIMON: I came back to.... SANDRA: What? What did you come back for? What did you ever come here for? SIMON: Sandra. SANDRA: You.... you! SIMON: OK. (PAUSE) How did you find out? SANDRA: Someone expected to see Jean with you at Marsha's party last night –

not me. SIMON: Shit. SANDRA: You shouldn't complain darling. You've had a good run. Since art

college I hear. SIMON: Only off and on. SANDRA: Off and on! SIMON: Why don't you go home.

SANDRA: Home! What home? Our home? (PAUSE) God I really hate you. SIMON: Just go home. SANDRA: Does she? Does she hate you? SIMON: I expect so. SANDRA: I hope she does. SIMON: Thanks. SANDRA: What do you expect? SIMON: I expect you to hate me. SANDRA: You pathetic bastard. SIMON: Yeah. SANDRA: Pathetic. SIMON: Right. SANDRA: Fuck off.

SIMON: You're upset. SANDRA: Hah! SIMON: I would be. SANDRA: Fuck off! SIMON: Look Sandra. SANDRA: Was she? SIMON: What? SANDRA: Upset? SIMON: A bit. SANDRA: What! SIMON: Well.... SANDRA: You haven't told her have you? (NO REPLY) Have you? (NO REPLY)

You little shit. (PAUSE) I'll tell her then. SIMON: No - you can't. SANDRA: Watch me. SIMON: You don't understand.

SANDRA: No, that's true, that's absolutely true, I don't understand. SIMON: I can't expect you to, but... SANDRA: Oh no don't.

SIMON: Please Sandra. SANDRA: No. (COVERS EARS) I won't listen. SIMON: It was before you. You and I had just...well, she got pregnant. SANDRA (UNCOVERING EARS) She's the type. SIMON: I didn't want it\ her, I wanted you. SANDRA: Hah! SIMON: What's a man supposed to do? SANDRA: (HANDS OVER EARS) I don't want to hear this. SIMON: What could I do? SANDRA: I don't want to know. SIMON: She lost the baby, she was depressed. Pre- post natal....you know. SANDRA: (UNCOVERING EARS) No! No, I don't know. How could I? How the bloody

hell could I? SIMON: Sorry... sorry. (SIGHS) LONG PAUSE SANDRA: I hate you. SIMON: Sorry. SANDRA: The lies. SIMON: Sorry, sorry.

SANDRA: It's pathetic. SIMON: Sorry. SANDRA: (SCREAMS) Shut up! (PAUSE) All those conferences I suppose? SIMON: Yes.

SANDRA: Field trips, evening classes. SIMON: Yes, yes, yes, I admit it all. SANDRA: You bastard. SIMON: Yes. SANDRA: No! It's not that easy, I want to know why. SIMON: I've told you. SANDRA: You haven't. (LONG PAUSE) Was it sex? SIMON: Not really. SANDRA: She told me. SIMON: So why are you asking? SANDRA: I want you to tell me. (LONG PAUSE) Come on, you bastard,

in your own words. (PAUSE) Simon? (PAUSE) I'm waiting. (PAUSE) Tell me about it you creep, tell me, come on, you always had a way with words didn't you and I want to know the details \ all the rotton, miserable, lying little details...

SIMON: (SPEAKING OVER SANDRA AT POINT INDICATED \) (QUIETLY AT FIRST THEN

LOUDER) Listen to you, listen to you, listen to you! SANDRA: What? SIMON: Listen to you, on and on, you go on and on - always this .... nagging –

this constant...

SANDRA: Me! SIMON: Just listen to you. SANDRA STARTS TO LAUGH WITH GREAT VIGOUR. SIMON: What are you laughing at?

SANDRA CONTINUES LAUGHING SIMON: That's enough. SANDRA LAUGHS. SIMON: Stop it! SIMON GETS UP AND BEGINS TO PURSUE SANDRA AROUND THE BED. SANDRA CONTINUES TO LAUGH, BUT THEN BEGINS TO GASP. SHE SNATCHES AT SIMON WHO TRIES TO CATCH HER, BUT SHE FALLS, GASPING ON TO THE BED. SIMON FLOPS DOWN BESIDE HER FACE DOWN. SIMON: I can't take this Sandra. SANDRA: (BETWEEN GASPS) You can't! SIMON: Count.

SANDRA: (GASP), two three, (GASP), I'm trying.

SIMON: Four, five.(SANDRA GASPS) Six, seven. Where's your inhaler?

SANDRA: At fucking Marsha's. Eight, nine. SANDRA'S BREATHING EASES. SIMON: Better? SANDRA: No. SIMON: Look Sandra, don't drive me into a corner - please. SANDRA: Why? Will you bite? Are you really such a rat?

SIMON: Look, we can't talk here. Jean could come back any minute. SANDRA: I'm not going, not before I've told her. SIMON: I'll do that. SANDRA: I don't trust you.

SIMON: I promise. SANDRA: Hah! SIMON: I owe it to her.

SANDRA: Tell her, then get rid of her. (NO REPLY) Simon? SIMON: I heard you. SANDRA: Well? (NO REPLY) I mean it Simon. You've had a good run, god knows I've

always suspected, but that's not the same as....she's got to go Simon, or I will.

SIMON: Fair enough. SANDRA: It isn't ....fair....on me or her. SIMON: Leave it to me. (GETS UP AND TRIES TO USHER SANDRA OUT) SANDRA: Simon! SIMON: (PUSHING GENTLY) Yo go home, I'll tell her I promise. SANDRA: Don't push. (MOVES BACK INTO ROOM) I'm going, I...

(APPROACHES 'SCULPTURE') Oh look, what's this? SIMON: Oh...mm...one of Jean's creations I suppose. SANDRA: She knitted it? SIMON: Looks like it. SANDRA: It's coming undone. SIMON: Is it? Don't pull that. Sandra! SANDRA: Just a minute. Isn't it a...? (GIGGLES) Oh no, oh look what it is.

Good proportions eh? (PAUSE) God, is it meant to be you? SIMON: Shut up. SANDRA: (LOOKING MORE CLOSELY) Let's see, yes, oh yes, that's you alright.

What on earth....? SIMON: Irony. SANDRA: Really? Looks more like worship to me. SIMON: No, no. Can't you see - male form. SANDRA: Yes yes, darling, I can see that alright. SIMON: Female materials. SANDRA: What?

SIMON: Soft material.... SANDRA: Hard form....except it's not. SIMON: It was till you picked at it.

SANDRA PULLS THREAD AGAIN. SIMON: Sandra I'm warning you. SANDRA CONTINUES TO TWEAK AND GIGGLE SIMON: Leave it, just leave it alone. SANDRA: I'm sure this is all very freudian. SIMON: I'm sure it's not. SANDRA: Let's think. SIMON: Let's not. SANDRA: Has sex become an art form for Jean? (PAUSE) Or is she so frustrated.

(CARESSES 'SCULPTURE') that she's made one of her own. Is this an icon or a dildo?

SIMON: Don't be so cruel. (SITS ON BED)

SANDRA: Me cruel! SIMON: She's a good kid. SANDRA: She's a woman. SIMON: She's very vulnerable. SANDRA: And I'm not? SIMON: Not in the same way. SANDRA: Ah! SIMON: She's very unworldly. SANDRA: How convenient for you. SIMON: Innocent. SANDRA: My heart bleeds.

SIMON: For god's sake Sandra. SANDRA: (LYING BESIDE SIMON ON THE BED) Listen Simon, don't tell me about Jean. I

know Jean, I've known her a very long time. I can remember her being head girl at school and I can remember how she manipulated and schemed to get there. You see it was an unwritten law in our school that the head girl had first refusal on the head boy. But dear Jean didn't refuse, she wanted him so she took him. She took him away from me. He said, "It looks bad if I don't and she's a good kid, underneath she's very vulnerable. You'll be alright, but she....." And so Jean was alright, but I wasn't.

SIMON: (PUTTING ARM AROUND SANDRA) I didn't realise

SANDRA: How could you? SIMON: And this feels like history repeating itself?

SANDRA: Not really. SIMON: It must. SANDRA: No, I just made it up! SIMON: Shit! SANDRA: (GETTING UP AND STROKING 'SCULPTURE') Or did I? An icon? Or a dildo? SIMON: Don't start. SANDRA: Which? (PAUSE) Tell me and I'll go. (PAUSE) Tell me. SIMON: I don't know what you're talking about. SANDRA: (GETTING HOLD OF THREAD) I'll pull. SIMON: Alright! (GETS UP) If you must know, I didn't want her....much. SANDRA: Just lay back and thought of England? SIMON: Something like that. SANDRA: Then it probably is you. (STROKES SCULPTURE) Shall we check?

Come on - let's compare. SANDRA RUNS OVER TO WHERE SIMON IS LYING AND STARTS TO UNDO HIS TROUSERS. SIMON: Sandra! Get off! No...no! Stop it. Don't....get off!

SIMON STARTS TO LAUGH AND SANDRA PULLS OFF HIS TROUSERS. SHE STARTS TO LAUGH ALSO AND FALLS ON TOP OF HIM. THEY BOTH STOP LAUGHING ABRUPTLY AND SIMON STARTS TO UNDRESS SANDRA. SANDRA: (STOPPING HIM) How can you?.... SIMON: (CONTINUING) You know. SANDRA: (STOPPING HIM AGAIN) But Jean. SIMON: It was never... SANDRA: I know, but.... she got pregnant. SIMON: She lost it. SANDRA: But it worked. You made...she made.. created...the two of you...... SIMON: (VERY TENDERLY) Why don't you just shut up.

SIMON KISSES SANDRA WHO RESPONDS. LIGHTS DOWN END SCENE TWO.

S C E N E T H R E E JEAN'S ROOM IS IN SEMI DARKNESS. ENTWINED TOGETHER, SANDRA AND SIMON ARE ASLEEP ON THE BED. JEAN ENTERS WAVING A SHOPPING BAG AND CHANTINGRHYTHMICALLY TO HERSELF. JEAN: Number eights, number eights, on a plate....s, number eights.

SHE RUMMAGES IN HER BAG AND PULLS OUT KNITTING NEEDLES. JEAN: Ole! JEAN SINGS THE HABANERA FROM CARMEN AND PRANCES

AROUND THE ROOM LIKE A MATADOR, WAVING THE KNITTING NEEDLES. THE NOISE SHE MAKES CAUSES SANDRA TO STIR, AND DRAWS JEAN'S ATTENTION TO THEM BOTH ON THE BED.SHE CONTINUES TO DANCE AND SING, BUT MORE QUIETLYAND SLOWLY. SHE CIRCLES THE BED LOOKING AT THEM BOTH AND MENACING THEM WITH THE NEEDLES. JEAN THEN GETS ALL HER WOOL AND PILES IT ONTO THE TABLE. SHE CHOOSES A COLOUR CAREFULLY AND ATTACHES ONE END TO THE LEG OF THE BED. SHE THEN STARTS TO BIND SANDRA AND SIMON ON TO THE BED, STARTING AT THEIR FEET. HAVING COMPLETED HER TASK, USING UP ALL THE WOOL, SHE EXITS.

SIMON: (LIFTING HEAD AND LOOKING DOWN) What the....? (DROPS HEAD) Christ! (LIFTS HEAD) Wool! Sandra....Oi Sandra!

SANDRA GROANS SIMON: Sandra! Wake up! SANDRA: Up?...Oh, leave me. (TRIES TO MOVE) Just a minute.(LIFTING HEAD AND

LOOKING DOWN) Simon! Simon this is not funny. SIMON: No. SANDRA: What? You're still...? SIMON: Right here. SANDRA: So how?...who?....Jean, this is Jean. SIMON: Can you move? SANDRA: The bitch. SIMON: Try and move. SANDRA: Does she often do this kind of knitting? SIMON: How should I know. SANDRA: Is this one of her little.....? SIMON: Try and move your hands. SANDRA: You try. SIMON: I have, I can't. SANDRA: Nor can I and my elbow's itching. SIMON: Which one? SANDRA: Near you. SIMON: There? (RUBS HIS ELBOW UP AGAINST SANDRA'S) SANDRA: Thanks, now get us out of here. SIMON: Any suggestions? SANDRA: No. (PAUSE) Can you reach your 'phone?

SIMON: I'll try. (ATTEMPTS TO WRIGGLE HAND INTO POCKET)

JEAN ENTERS CARRYING BAG. SHE PLACES IT ON THE TABLE AND TAKES OUT BALLS OF BRIGHTLY COLOURED WOOL JUST AS IN SCENE I. JEAN: (READING LABELS ON WOOL) Sea Jade, clear crimson.

SIMON: (NUDGED BY SANDRA) I'm.... we're very sorry about this.

JEAN: Petrol blue.

SIMON: I ought to have told you. JEAN: Pale petunia. SANDRA: Jean, are you listening? JEAN: Corn yellow, mellow.... SANDRA: Stop that! Don't be so bloody childish! JEAN WHEELS ROUND AND THROWS A BALL OF WOOL VERY ACCURATELY SO THAT IT HITS SANDRA HARD ON THE HEAD. JEAN: Mellow mustard. SANDRA: Ow! SIMON: (WHISPERING) Leave this to me. (LOUDER) Sandra and I - well - Sandra is... JEAN STANDS POISED WITH A BALL OF WOOL IN HER HAND. SIMON: Sandra is my wife. JEAN THROWS A BALL OF WOOL VERY HARD AND HIS SIMON ON THE HEAD. SIMON: (SHOUTING) We've been married for...Well, eversince.... SANDRA: Four years. JEAN IS UNABLE TO DECIDE WHO TO THROW THE NEXT BALL OF WOOL AT. SHE SITS DOWN AND HUGS IT ROCKING. JEAN: Baby pink. SANDRA: Baby pink! I've had enough of this. Jean, we're sorry but.....

JEAN STARTS TO UNRAVEL THE WOOL. SHE SNAPS IT INTO SHORT LENGTHS AND THROWS THEM ON THE FLOOR.

JEAN: Misty violet, misty violet, blue lagoon, mellow mustard, mellow mustard, mellow mustard, petrol blue, petrol, petrol, petrol. Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!

SANDRA: Stop it Jean. JEAN: Pale petunia, sea jade, sea jade, jade, jade, jade, crimson! Clear crimson,

crimson, crimson, blood! Blood! blood! blood! SANDRA: Christ Simon, do something. SIMON: (WHISPERING) Misty violet. SANDRA: Look Jean. JEAN: (SHOUTS) Clear crimson, crimson, crimson, blood, blood, blood!(POINTING

NEEDLES AT SANDRA) Blood! Blood! Blood! SANDRA: Oooh Simon....Simon! (BEGINS TO GASP) JEAN: (ADVANCING ON SANDRA) Crimson lakes of... SANDRA: Not blood.... no.... don't.... stop.... (INSPIRATION) I know, I know - Stick them

in the dick! JEAN: (ZOMBIE LIKE) In the dick? SANDRA: That's right - prick the prick! JEAN GOES OVER TO THE 'SCULPTURE' AND LOOKS AT IT AS IF FOR THE FIRST TIME. SHE THEN LOOKS AT THE NEEDLES IN HER HAND. SHE HOLDS THEM POISED TO STICK INTO THE 'SCULPTURE', BUT THEN CHANGES HER MIND AND DROPS HER ARMS. JEAN: I'm so confused, I thought I understood, but.....

SIMON: (SHOUTS) It doesn't matter!

JEAN: Doesn't it?

SIMON (FRANTIC) Of course not, nothing matters, why should it? Nothing means anything.

JEAN: In that case, we can do what we like.

SIMON: Yes, yes.

JEAN LIFTS NEEDLES AGAIN.

SIMON: No....well....I mean....

JEAN: Make up your mind.

SANDRA: He hasn't got one. (WHISPERS) Look just stop all this daft clever chat and try and persuade her to let us go.

JEAN: (PICKING UP BALL OF WOOL) Persuade me. SIMON: Right, listen to me Jean. JEAN THROWS A BALL OF WOOL SO IT STRIKES SIMON ON THE HEAD. SIMON: Don't do that. JEAN: (THROWING ANOTHER BALL TO STRIKE SIMON) Persuade me. SIMON: (TRYING DESPERATELY TO SIT UP) I don't know....what is it you want to hear?

SANDRA: The truth, tell someone the truth for once in your life. SIMON: The truth! Oh alright. Which truth is that then? Which one do you want?

Today's? Yesterday's. The one I overheard on the tube? And who's do you want? Mine? Yours? Shall I ring my mother and see what she says? Do you want the white truth or the red? I've got some pink here.

JEAN Baby pink.

SANDRA You really are a complete waste of space aren't you Simon. JEAN: Persuade me, persuade me, persuade me. SANDRA & (SPEAKING TOGETHER) Oh shut up! SIMON Stop that!

JEAN TAKES AIM WITH BALL OF WOOL

SIMON: Throw that and I'll..... JEAN: What? SANDRA: Act like a rat? SIMON: (SITTING UP AND BREAKING THREADS) Yes! Yes! That's it! Alright! SIMON JUMPS OUT OF BED, SNATCHES THE 'SCULPTURE' AND DANCES ROUND THE ROOM WITH IT CLUTCHED TO HIS GROIN. SIMON: I'm a rat. Yes, I give in - you win-both of you, you win. I'm a rat, I'm a

rat, I'm a rat! Enough? Satisfied? Jesus, I mean...what does it matter? Life's a farce, nothing means anything really so call it what you like, call me what you like, what's in a name? You tell me - no - don't. I can't stand it. I'll just be

a rat. Yes, that's me. A rat, a rat, a filthy, rotton, lowdown, sneaky, vicious, little rat!

SANDRA SITS UP AND SHE AND JEAN BEGIN TO LAUGH AT SIMON. HE THROWS THE SCULPTURE TO THE FLOOR AND STARTS TO DRESS. JEAN: (STOPS LAUGHING ABRUPTLY) Are you going? SIMON: What do you think? SANDRA: (STILL LAUGHING) He's going. SIMON: Leave you two to get on with what you started earlier. JEAN & (SPEAKING TOGETHER) Thanks.SANDRA Fine. SIMON: Where's my shoes? JEAN & (SPEAKING TOGETHER) Find them yourself.SANDRA How should I know? SIMON FINDS HIS SHOES, PUTS THEM ON AND MAKES FOR THE DOOR.

JEAN: Here (HANDS SIMON 'SCULPTURE') Don't forget this. SIMON: (THROWING IT DOWN) You can have it - both of you. Keep it, it's yours. SIMON EXITS. SANDRA: Well! JEAN: Well. (SITS ON BED) Well, we got rid of him didn't we? SANDRA: What? JEAN: I said.... SANDRA GETS UP AND LOOKS FOR HER CLOTHES. JEAN: Where are you going? SANDRA: Home. JEAN: Home! SANDRA: Where's my blouse? JEAN: I've no idea.

SANDRA: It must be somewhere. JEAN: You took it off. SANDRA: Come on Jean. JEAN: Here. (THROWS JUMPER) Wear this, it's Simon's, I made it for him,

I knitted it. SANDRA: (THROWING DOWN JUMPER) I'd rather not.

JEAN: But I want you to have it. JEAN GOES OVER AND FORCES THE JUMPER ONTO SANDRA WHO SITS PASSIVELY ON THE BED. JEAN: There. SANDRA: Happy now? Right, well perhaps I can go then? (STANDS AND CONTINUES

DRESSING) JEAN: Wait, here, take this too. STUFFS 'SCULPTURE' UP SANDRA'S JUMPER. SANDRA: I don't want it. (GIVES IT BACK) JEAN: Nor do I. (THROWS IT DOWN)

SANDRA: You made it. JEAN: I didn't - one of his students... SANDRA: One of his students. Of course. (LAUGHS, CONTINUES DRESSING) JEAN: You thought that I? SANDRA: Never mind. JEAN: I wouldn't. SANDRA: Wouldn't you darling?....shoes? JEAN: No, I.... SANDRA IS HUNTING UNDER THE BED AND PULLING OUT AND EXAMINING WHAT SHE FINDS. JEAN: Listen to me.

SANDRA FINDS HER SHOE, PUTS IT ON AND PICKS UP HER JACKET. JEAN: Sandra...stay, just for a bit. SANDRA: I don't want to. JEAN: Please. SANDRA: Why? JEAN: (THROWING BALL OF WOOL FOR SANDRA TO CATCH) We could talk. SANDRA: (CATCHING WOOL AND THROWING IT BACK CARELESSLY) No. JEAN: (THROWING BALL) You wanted to before. SANDRA: I wanted to know. Now I do. (THROWS BALL BACK) JEAN: And? (THROWS BALL) SANDRA: (LETTING BALL DROP) And I'm going home. JEAN: Back to him. (THROWS BALL) SANDRA: (THROWS IT BACK) I thought you wanted to do your knitting? JEAN: Not any more.(THROWS BALL INTO BIN) SANDRA: Well that's something. JEAN: Yes, it is isn't it. And I've learned what irony means.

SANDRA: Didn't you know before?

JEAN: Not objectively. SANDRA: Well then. (MAKES FOR DOOR) JEAN: (BLOCKING SANDRA'S WAY) Well then.

SANDRA MOVES TOWARDS THE DOOR AND IS AGAIN BLOCKED BY JEAN. JEAN: You can't go. SANDRA: Don't be silly. JEAN: I won't let you. SANDRA: For god's sake Jean.

JEAN: He was always going, and now you are - going - to him. I won't let you. SANDRA: You can't stop me. (BREATHES HEAVILY) JEAN: I can. SANDRA: Look, I'm sorry but... JEAN: Sorry! You come here... SANDRA: I'm his wife! JEAN: And I'm? SANDRA: Look Jean... JEAN: I'm what? SANDRA: Oh....oh it's so stuffy in here. You should open some windows. It's

suffocating.

PAUSE. SANDRA BREATHES WITH DIFFICULTY SANDRA: Come on Jean. JEAN BEGINS TO LAUGH SANDRA: You can't just.... JEAN: Yes, I can. SANDRA: (SHOUTS) You can't! Oh no....(GASPS) Can't you open a window?

Oh, why is it so hot in here? JEAN: (LAUGHING) It's the jumper. SANDRA: (HOLDING ON TO CHAIR GASPING) A window. JEAN: No. SANDRA: (PULLING AT SWEATER) It's so tight round the neck. JEAN: The colour suits you. SANDRA: Itchy, I'm sweating.

JEAN: It matches... SANDRA: I must get outside.

JEAN: Peverse purple - that's what they call that colour - peverse purple. SANDRA: It's too hot. (GASPING BADLY) Must get air. JEAN: Or was it peacock purple? No, peacocks are blue aren't they? SANDRA: (PULLING AT SWEATER) Help me Jean. JEAN: Sort of greenish blue. SANDRA: Jean! JEAN: Jean, Jean, the string bean, remember? SANDRA: Kids. JEAN: And now we're adults and we know what irony means. (PICKS UP

SCULPTURE)

SANDRA: (STRUGGLING WITH SWEATER AND GASPING) Can't breathe...Jean...Please....Help me.

JEAN: Why should I? You came here. You wanted to know, so you came. I was happy. I didn't want to know.

SANDRA COLLAPSES GASPING

JEAN: Simon would come and I would do my knitting and....

SANDRA: Air, I must have some air.

JEAN: You've spoilt it.

SANDRA: One, two, Oh god.

JEAN: Like at school. (SANDRA COUGHS) Always spoiling things, always teasing. I slapped you.....only once, I pushed you back and slapped you. (SANDRA COUGHS) ".....You know Sandra has asthma. How could you? It isn't kind." (SANDRA COUGHS UNCONTROLLABLY) Kind!

SANDRA: Please.... I can't.....

JEAN: You weren't kind then and you’re not now.

SANDRA: Bed...

JEAN: My bed - you and him in my bed - spoiling things.

SANDRA: Lie down.... talk.... we could...

LONG PAUSE

JEAN: I knew you wanted to stay and talk. Here, I'll help you. (PULLS OFF SANDRA'S SWEATER AND HELPS HER ONTO THE BED) There now. That's better. (COVERS SANDRA).

JEAN WANDERS AROUND THE ROOM PUTTING THINGS STRAIGHT, HUMMING THE HABANERA. SHE PUTS THE SCULPTURE BACK ON THE TABLE AND PATS IT BACK INTO SHAPE.

JEAN: (NOTICING A BALL OF WOOL ON THE TABLE) Oh look Sandra, (PICKING UP BALL) mellow mustard. It's a lovely colour, and here are my needles - number eights. Number eights, number eights, on a... the right size, just the right size... for the mellow yellow. It's tempting.... isn't it Sandra/.... while you have a rest eh? .... I could have a little knit.... and you could rest.... yes... that's right.

JEAN TAKES HER CARDIGAN OFF, GETS ON THE BED BESIDE SANDRA AND STARTS TO KNIT. THERE IS A LONG PAUSE. SANDRA BREATHES NOISILY. THE SOUND OF AN OUTER DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING. SIMON APPEARS IN THE DOORWAY.

SIMON: (ENTERING) You left the front door open again Jeanie, anyone could.....

LIGHTS DOWN, MUSIC (HABANERA) VERY LOUD.

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